The Old Hunt
by Silver Temeraire
Summary: Harry Potter is the Heir to a bloodline even the Founder's feared, and the product of a prophecy set down by Merlin himself. SSHP, powerful, semicreature!Harry, RWHG bashing, Dumbledore manipulative, better then sounds.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello there. I know what you are saying,_ Why even bother to post such a small chunk as this?_ Well, the thing is, I wrote the next three chapters, but then I realized that I had put to much in them! So I had to change the first chapter, which results in mw having to rewrite all of them. But I neede to post this so I wouldn't give up on the story!

**_Disclaimer: _**I own my ipod and super cool ring. My own pay check goes towards my brother's tuition at a private school

_****_

_**Prologue**_

Harry Potter, the Boy who lived, was a figment of the Wizarding World's imagination. Oh, his parents did name him Harry Potter, and he did survive the killing curse, but he didn't survive because of his mother's sacrifice. He was saved by the Old ways thought, and was the product of a prophecy set down by Merlin himself, and born of a bloodline the Founder's themselves revered.

_Marked by unfortunate Byrthe_

_Raiesed by unwilling tyes_

_The Hyddene Serpente shall defeat_

_Death's flight, and yet stay Death's eager Hand_

_And the Folk of the Isle shall rise,_

_And Name him Last Heir to the Hunt_

_Child of the elements and the wild ways, be not afraid_

_Your forebears' gifts shall aide you._

Harry Potter would never be normal.

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So...did you like it so far? And I will give out Snape plushies (virtualy) if you can guess what the blood line is, or rather, know of the the Wild hunt, but anyways...**_Does anyone want to be my beta? Pretty please?_**


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Wow, another chapter within a week! I'm so proud of myself.-hugs herself!!- Er, now onto business. Thanks to Asphisiatedmuse for offering to be my beta. Sorry, a friend at school called in a favor, and snatched up the job. I owe it to her that I am getting semi-decent marks in Science and got 69 in Fral. Anyway, all the reviews were nice, and NO FLAMES!!! -gasp- I thought that was a legend, a chapter with no flames! Anyway, here it is! And don't hate me!

Chapter 1

28 minutes and 45.8 seconds

Harry checked the timer on his broken watch again. He had placed a charm on it on his last day at Hogwarts so that it would count down the exact time until he could leave the Dursley's 'tender hospitality' and live on his own, free of the influence and manipulations of Dumbles and his Order of the Flaming Canaries. Not that he had anything against Fawkes, but a quick search through the library had reveled that phoenixes that where unable to speak normally had chosen the wrong wizard to bond to. No, Harry would go into hiding for the rest of the summer, and then complete his seventh year at Hogwarts. Harry didn't really think past that point. He knew that sometime during his seventh year of Hogwarts he was going to have his final battle with Voldemort. Harry rolled his eyes sarcastically. Well, he _would_ have the best excuse ever for not getting a very high NEWTS score. He chuckled a little, picturing the scene.

_Harry stood nervously in front of the recruiter for the Auror's Academy. The wizened man behind the desk put down Harry's resume and folded his hands. _

"_Well, Mister Potter. In spite of your rather excellent references, I fear that I must turn down your application to join our program. Your NEWTS are not high enough for you to proceed to the next step of the application procedure. If you are indeed serious about joining, I would take some remedial classes and apply when you have the scores high enough to make this worth my time."_

_Harry winced. "Sir, I have a very good reason why I was unable to score higher on my NEWTS."_

_The Auror raised an eyebrow. "Mister Potter, it would take an incredible event why you scored ZERO on your NEWTS and I should still accept you."_

_Harry grinned suddenly "Sorry, sir. I was defeating Voldemort." _

Harry got up from his bed, still chuckling. It would be interesting to see if that happened in real life. He smirked at the thought of sending that to Moldyshorts over their connection. Contrary to what Snape thought, Harry had been learning the basics and more of Occulemency, though he was naturally a Legimance. He had been reading advanced sections of the texts that Snape had given him for the summer between his 6th and 7th years. Harry normally kept his shields up, but would sometimes let them down so that Voldemort didn't get the idée that he actually knew what he was doing. Harry also kept a layer of surface thoughts or random memories that didn't have any significant meanings or information as a smoke screen. He occasionally sent thought or random images to the Dark Lord, usually of Harry defeating him in the most ludicrous ways, such as Voldemort slipping on a banana and impaling himself on a spork. It was best if he sent the funny ones during a Death Eater meeting. Harry sneered as he started to pack his trunk. And here they thought Voldemort was crazy for laughing at odd times or randomly Cruccio-ing people. Of course, Voldemort retaliated by sending him images of his friends dying during the Order meetings, but then again, they needed some sort of entertainment at those meetings, and if it was Cruccio attacks or nightmares, he would take them.

Harry peered at his watch again. 15 minutes. He looked around his room, trying to see if there was anything he missed. Not that he owned that much. No, it was his cousin's clutter that might hide a Charms text, or a vial of Dreamless sleep potion. He didn't want to leave anything behind, for he never intended to come back. He mentally scanned through the items that he had placed in his trunk. His lesson books from all his years at Hogwarts, his broom and robes went on the bottom. His photo album of his parents was next, along with miscellaneous things like owls treats and the photos that Colin Creevy had given him. It would have been a normal school trunk, except that this was everything that he owned, other than his wand.

Footsteps started coming up the stairs. Harry looked at his watch. There was only 10 minutes until he could leave. Slowly, he closed his trunk and drew his wand. It might be Dudley, or his Uncle Vernon, but on his 17th birthday, when the blood wards collapsed, he wouldn't count on it.

He quickly hid his wand when he saw his uncle, but not quickly enough. His uncle had noticed his fugitive movement.

"Boy! How dare you pull out that freakish stick of yours in our house!!"

Harry started laughing uncontrollably. He knew that his uncle meant his wizarding wand, but he would probably say the same thing if he knew that Harry was gay. One more mark against the already tarnished boy.

Vernon's face went even purpler, and his eyes became quite red and protuberant. "Laughing, ey, boy? Well, you won't be laughing for long, especially when I do this!" H swung his mallet like hand into the side of Harry's head. Harry fell back, and lay dazed on the floor. He felt his uncle go through his pockets, and tried to sit up. His uncle's face appeared before him. "Well, boy, it seems you want a going away present." He shoved his hands in Harry's face, making it impossible for Harry to move. "Watch this." He grabbed either end of Harry's wand, and snapped it in half.

Harry felt stunned. While he didn't specifically want to fight Voldemort, he had realized that it was a necessity, and that his wand was somehow going to be the key. He felt his magic twist inside of him. When a wand chooses it's owner, it bonds itself to the wizard or witches very magical core, containing it so that it doesn't run rampant and go crazy when a wizard was angry. While still able to do magic without a wand, or with a second wand, it was extremely difficult, as part of your magic would always reside in the broken wand. Harry had been the Dark Lord's exact equal with hid full power. Now, missing part of his magic, he wouldn't stand a chance. He thought back to what Oliviander had said when he had bought his wand . _"It's brother did great things. Terrible, but great. I expect we shall have the same from you, Mister Potter. "_ He was so stuck in his shock that he didn't realize what his uncle was doing until it was too late. "What the--?"

Vernon Dursley hit Harry with his belt, then giggled, a terrifying sound when coming from a 350 pound human walrus. "I'm giving you your other birthday present, freak. Aren't you going to thank me?"

Harry opened his mouth to answer, but got a belt buckle in his mouth. "Did I say you could talk? No, I didn't. You aren't allowed to make a sound, Harry, no matter what I do to you, do you understand me?"

Harry nodded, his head still reeling from the earlier blow to his head. It had been awhile since the last time that his uncle had hit him. This was Vernon Dursley's favorite game. He would beat his nephew until he made a sound, and then would tell Petunia when she asked that Harry had had a nightmare. Horrified that it might be some strange, wizarding thing, she would then lock him in the cupboard and not feed him for a week, and only occasionally letting him go to the bathroom.

He winced when he felt the buckle of his uncle's belt hit him a second time in the head. He knew he was going to have a killer headache in the morning, and that it was going to near impossible to stay in a safe place, since he had lost his wand, he would be unable to summon the Knight Bus. Harry felt blood trickle down his face, and bit his lip to keep from screaming as his uncle started kicking him repeatedly in the stomach. He tried to roll into a fetal position, but the pain was too much. It shot through is body like trails of fire. Harry, mercifully, blacked out.

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A/N: So, how was that? Was that update long enough? I should warn you, it might be a while before my next update, as I have finals and provincals for the next two weeks. Yay (or not) for test that crazy people from the governement write about stuff from 5 months ago that you don't remember that count for 20 of your mark! So, I haven't abandoned you, just put my priorities in a different place for a while!


	3. Chapter 3

Since I love you all so much, I decided to update before my last exam tomorrow. Yes, I should probably be studing, but what's the fun in that. Anyways, I love all the reviews you guys have sent me, but send me more. I'm going to need the ego boost after I get the results back!!!Tell me you love me, guys!!!

Chapter 2

Harry was waking up slowly, something that only ever happened when he was in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts. At the Dursley's, he either had to get up to make breakfast, do the chores, and even if none of that was going on, the blankets that he slept on in the corner of Dudley's second bedroom were hardly a resort style bed. At Hogwarts, he had Quidditch and homework. Only when he was under Pomfrey's care did ever get a full and decent night's sleep.

His first real thought was that he was warm and comfortable, followed by the realization that he was comfortable, and not aching from the beating that he knew his uncle had given him the night before. Suddenly slightly wary, Harry tried to get a feel for his surroundings without opening his eyes, maintaining the illusion of sleep.

There seemed to be the crackle of a fire in the corner, but it was either a very small fire, or this was a very large room. Harry also got the impression of a window, or more like a balcony on his left, and he smelt what he believed was the sea, but never having been near the sea, Harry wasn't sure about that.

Not sensing anything that was out to kill him, not that he would really have been able to sense that, Harry opened his eyes. He had been right in some of his reasoning, and totally wrong in others.

The room Harry was in wasn't large, it was gargantuan. The high ceiling, enchanted to look like the sky outside, made the room feel like it went on forever. The walls were of mahogany, with silver and ivory Celtic knots and runes inlaid into patterns that caught and held the eye. All the furniture in the room was black velvet or silver silk, with red cherry wood.

But it was the floor that had Harry sitting up with a gasp. The room was in two levels, with his bed and other bedroom furniture on one side of the top level, connected to the other section of the top level by a bridge. The section across the bridge appeared to be a study of some sort, with several large bookcases. The bottom section didn't really look like it was for anything. That wasn't what was unusual. The higher sections appeared to be carpeted in grass, while the lower section appeared to be a river, with slate covering the drop from the upper levels.

Harry realized abruptly that he didn't have his glasses on. He looked to either side of the bed, looking to see where his glasses had gone. He stopped when he saw a boy about a year younger then himself walk in through the door that broke the patterns on the wall.

The young man cam over to the bed and inclined his head. "Lord Herne, my name is Arion. I am accomplished in the healing arts. My I check to see that your injuries have healed without any difficulty?"

Harry nodded, slightly bemused. "Yes, you can, but I think you have me confused with someone else. I'm not this Lord Herne."

Arion sat down on the edge of Harry's bed, and began to examine his arm. "Was your father James Potter, and was his Animagnus a stag named Prongs?"

Harry nodded, wincing as it felt like something shifted in his arm. "Yes. Why did you ask that?"

Arion took the other arm and compared it to the arm he had just been working on. "Because it proves that you are Lord Herne, greatest of the Lords, a straight descendant of the firstborn of the Tuatha Danu and Tuatha Dagda."

Harry grimaced slightly. "I'm going to appear very stupid, but I have no idea what you are talking about."

Arion put Harry's arms down, satisfied that they were healed properly. He gazed off into the distance for a moment, looking as though he was wondering where to start. Harry took this opportunity to study Arion.

The boy's features were horse-ish, in the most flattering way possible. It wasn't so much that he looked like a horse; it was just that when you first looked at him, the first thing you thought of was a very fine boned Arabian about the size of a Thoughbred. His large turquoise and jade eyes were beautiful, fringed with long black lashes much like Harry's own. Arion's hair, though, unlike Harry's, fell down Arion's back in gentle, cascading waves from where it flowed from where it was gathered in a low pony at the back of the young man's head. He wore a warm amber sleeveless tunic in a Mandarin style, with a cream colored poet's shirt beneath, over soft leather pants. Over all, Arion was the most beautiful individual Harry had ever seen, including the Veelas in his fourth year.

Harry was startled out of his examination by Arion commencement of speech. "The Briton Isles were created by the Tuatha Dagda and his mate, the Tuatha Danu. They were Father and Mother. I believe that Muggles and mortals call them Father Time and Mother Earth. They were of an older race than humans, and they, and you, by being their firstborn's descendant, are considered somewhat in the category of the Old Gods. The Tuatha Dagda and Tuatha Danu set their firstborn in charge of their lands, with his younger siblings as aides. Myrddin is one of those. He is the hawk god of travelers. Your Merlin was originally named after him. Azkaban was Herne's youngest sister. She originally built the place as a facility to change criminals, even if it meant wiping their minds. Herne's job was simple. Take care of the Isles, take care of your siblings, and keep the folk to the Isles safe and happy.

Harry nodded, and asked for clarification on one thing. "You say Myrddin IS alive, but Azkaban isn't?"

Arion bit his lip. "Well, technically her body is alive, since she is basically immortal, but her soul was split, and it has to be repieced together before she can be technically classified as alive."

Harry nodded. "How did I get to be Herne? I mean, my mum was muggle born and my father didn't carry any title that I know of."

Arion smirked. There could be no other name for it. "You inherited the title from you father's side. To be Lord Herne, the heir must have a certain level of power, plus the bloodline. Your father was an heir, but he didn't quite have enough power to be Lord Herne. He did, however, show signs of being an heir. Lord Herne's traditional animal is a stag. You have enough strength to rule the Isles."

Harry dropped his head into his hands. "That may have been true last night, but my uncle broke my wand. I lost some of my magic when that happened."

Arion snorted. "You lost some of your traditional wizarding magic. It made way for you Wild magic to break through." Seeing Harry's puzzled look, he explained. "When you were born, you magic was in a flask. To keep you from accidentally hurting yourself and others, your magic formed a stopper. Sometimes the stopper changed position, and that's when you get what is called Accidental Magic." He looked at Harry to make sure he was following, and then continued. "When you get your wand, its presence drills a hole in the stopper that channel's that energy directly through your wand. It's like a funnel. And if the funnel doesn't quite fit the hole, it doesn't work was well. That is why others peoples wands don't work well for anyone but their wizard or witches. Most people's magical 'stoppers', when their wand is broken, form a layer of what you might define as scar tissue. The next wand they chose works harder to actually reaching its bearer's magic, so it is a smaller funnel."

Harry nodded, following the explanation. "So, what happened with my magical 'stopper' when my uncle broke my wand?"

Arion grinned, reminding Harry scarily of the Weasley twins. "It blew off."

Harry decided to ask a question, just for the heck of it. "How many wizards' stopper would just blow off if that happened?"

Arion pretended to think about it. "Hmmm, so far, the names Merlin and Salazar Slytherin come to mind."

Harry fell back on his pillows, his eyes closed. "That's it, I give up. I have no chance at a normal life. Just kill me now."

Arion nodded. "Actually, I have to talk to you about that part."

Harry opened his eyes and scowled from his reclining position on the bed. "Oh, was I mysteriously turned into a vampire when I wasn't looking?"

Arion shook his head. "No, but you do have to make a choice. You can not go back to live with the Dursley's, that much is sure. You need to decide if you want to continue being Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, or somebody else, that you control the destiny of."

Harry looked at the intricate pattering of the inlay on the walls. The Celtic swirls and runes were fascinating, weaving in and out, but forming a part of a larger pattern. He looked back at Arion. "I would lose Ron and Hermione."

Arion nodded. "Yes, but you could try to become their friend as your new persona, without having to keep up pretense."

Harry nodded. "Yes. So I will be going back to Hogwarts?"

Arion nodded. "Of course, my Lord."

Harry blushed. "Call me Harry. I mean, you're only a few years younger than me."

Arion grinned. "I'm not going to call you by that name, unless you have decided to remain Harry Potter."

Harry chuckled. "Wise decision. How will you go about arranging my death while keeping me intact and healthy?"

Arion explained. "I was planning on using a variation of leparecon gold. I will take a substance, and charm it to be that for an indefinite period of time." He handed Harry a piece of paper. "Think up a new name, and then sign over all your inheritance to that new name. That way, you'll be able to keep it out of the hands of the Order."

Harry nodded, pondering. "How the name Aidan Erigone de Rossiere does (pronounced Rose-i-ey) sound?"

Arion nodded. "I like it. It has a certain quelque chose d'autre."

Harry scowled, signing the paper. "Just because my last name is French doesn't mean I speak the language."

Arion laughed at Harry's expression. "It means a certain something. And don't worry, by the end of the summer, you will have had better training than most pureblood royalty ever gets. But anyways, are you planning on getting out of bed today? We have a lot we need to do, and it will take me a moment to change."

Harry looked at Arion's clothes. I don't think that your clothes are a problem. Unlike mine." He glanced down scathingly at the PJ's he had inherited from his cousin.

Arion gave a snort of laughter. "That's not what I meant, but I'll show you what I meant in a second." He pointed at a second set of doors. "That is your closet. There are some basic wizarding clothing pieces in their, and we also can go shopping for more later. It would also be advisable if you put on one of the half masks. I haven't had a chance to brew a Creature Inheritance potion, and we need to get you your new wand right away, so you can practice using it before you go back to Hogwarts."

Harry nodded. Quickly, he climbed out of bed, and padded over the incredibly soft carpet. It felt cool, like grass does on a warm summer morning. He headed towards the doors and opened them; his eyes widening. It appeared to be a miniature hallway, though only parts of it were full. It contained weapons, armor, silks, cloaks of every description, shoes, staffs, masks, hats and at least one of every standard piece of clothing you could find. Dazed, Harry donned a pair of soft, black leather pants not unlike Arion's, knee-high leather boots, a black poet's shirt covered by a blood red tunic that hit him mid thigh, and was split up the sides to his waist. The neck had a one inch stand up collar, embroidered with little gold and amber deer. The front was able to lace up, but Harry left if unlaced. He chose a black leather belt that was tooled with deer leaping, with what appeared to be hounds chasing…no, the hounds were running with the deer, appearing to escort the deer, like he was their lord. Donning the belt, he chose a half mask of the same black leather as his pants, tooled with little silver feathers, making it look as though the feathers went back into his hair.

Harry strode out in time to see Arion send off Hedwig with the paper he had signed earlier. Arion raised an eyebrow when he was Harry. "Much more like a Lordling now, aren't you?" He turned and walked towards the water channel. "Now, you are going to ride me."

Harry spluttered. "What did you say?"

Arion laughed/ "Sorry. I forgot that you didn't know. Most people around here do, so I don't have to worry about their misconceptions. I'm a kelpie." To illustrate, Arion changed into his horse form. He was a truly magnificent horse, gleaming black, with blazing sea colored eyes, and a cascading mane and tail. The leather tunic had become a saddle of that same color. Harry grinned. "That's bloody brilliant. You are better than a sports car!"

Arion knelt down so that Harry could get on his back. "Get on my back, Aidan, and I will take you to the menagerie where you can find you familiar. Then the wand maker can make you wand, you can meet the hounds, and then you can listen to pleadents cases."

Harry grabbed the saddle horn as Arion started to move. "Cases? Does that have anything to do with what you said earlier about people still thinking of Herne as at least a demi-god?"

Arion bobbed his head, his mane drifting into the water. Harry was surprised, but pleased when he saw he wasn't getting wet. "Yes. You usually only get four or five cases a week. Your staff, i.e., the folk and Myrddin take care of the rest."

Harry nodded. They were now completely under water in the passage was between the two sections of his new room. He heard Arion mutter something, and then walk towards the water's edge. He saw that they weren't in his room, but rather in a forest glen, with a large stone building in front of them. He quickly climbed off his new friend's back, and waited for him to change back. As Arion shifted, Harry gazed at the stone building. Made of what appeared to be obsidian and opal, it was an imposing structure, though two stories at the most. Harry followed Arion towards the building. Arion stopped just outside. "These are all magical creatures. I suggest that you open your senses, and that your familiar will tell you who they are. They are quite capable of speech, when required."

Harry took a deep breath, nodded, and then entered the stone archway. He tried to open his senses, but found it difficult. Feeling something tug in one corner of his mind, he headed in that direction.

_Speaker, you must perceive me before I see you if you are to be my master._

Harry looked into the corner of the room where the voice had come from. A black snake lay curled in the corner, facing away from the door. As if sensing Harry's gaze, it slowly uncoiled itself, and glided towards him. Harry gasped. The serpent resembled a king cobra, with silver and crimson markings underneath the hood and great, jade green eyes. The serpent bowed. _Master, my name is Asmodieus_

Arion came in behind him. "Wow. You would be the one to get the three thousand year old Codrille as a familiar."

Harry looked at Asmodieus. _Is that true?_

_Yes, Master. I was the first snake on these Isles, and was Salazar's companion. I gave him my knowledge, for I was old then. To you, I great my knowledge, access to my power, and my friendship, without judgment. I, unlike other, am only concerned about you. I can no die as long as you are alive._

Harry was slightly awed by the gift this serpent was giving him. _Then please, call me Harry, or Aidan if we are close to Voldemort and Nagini._

Asmodieus reared up, flaring his hood._ Nagini is alive? _He started weaving back and forth, his eyes going the color of peridots.

_Yes, is that a problem?_

_No, it is a great joy! My mate lives. My mate is alive after all these years!_

Harry leaned against a wall. _I'm supposed to kill her master._

Asmodieus dropped his head and wound his way up Harry's body until he could rest on Harry's shoulder.

Ok, just in case people are wondering, a Codrille is a mini Basilks. It is born of a Salamader serviced by a Raven. If you don't get what that means, you probably arent' old enough to be reading this story...So, Codrilles look like king cobras, their eyes change colours, and oh, they can turn off the death glare.Very cool. See yah next time!!! I'm working on rewrinting the next chappie right now. And I'm a very slow typist. It took me three hours to type this!! OUCH!!!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: _he-he... sorry it has taken so long for me to update... there have been a variety of different things going on in my life the last few months. I have tendonitis in both wrists, as well as a milk intolerance that has just been discovered after over seventeen years of life. Other diseases have come into play, then I went to England, had to catch up on homework, then Cuba, then was sick, so had to catch up, then someone who is like a little brother was dying in the hospital... he can sit by himself now... SO HAPPYY!! So, very sorry, will try to update sooner! -_Rock Lee pops up-**YOSH!! THE FIRES OF YOUTH ARE BURNING BRIGHTER THEN EVER!! **ARRGGG!! THE GLINT IS BLINDING MEEEE!! .

The Old Hunt

Chapter 3

Harry, Asmodieus and Arion left for the wand maker's after that, Asmodieus questioning Harry about Voldemort and Nagini. Finally, he asked a question that had been bothering Harry himself for quite some time.

_Master, how do you feel about the Dark Snake? From what you have told me, you are not as eager to kill him as some would suppose, considering what he has done to you._

Harry sat back in the saddle. They were going cross-country in dereference to Harry's request to see his lands. He looked down at his hands.

_It's complicated, and I am not even really sure about what I feel about Voldemort. It sounds really stupid when I try to express what I feel in words._

Asmodieus bumped Harry's cheek with his head. _I promised not to judge, master. And I have a better grasp on human emotions than some humans do._

Harry tried to put the vague feelings he had into words. _I...pity isn't the right word. I hate what he has done, and find it hard to forgive him the pain he has caused me through the death of my parents, but then I realize that he has no concept of what that is like, and I see a certain sort of innocence within him. Buried deep, for sure, but I see what I might have become in him. I am no more innately good then he is. I have just had different experiences that he has. He was most likely the kid in the orphanage who was the bullied, rather than being the bully. He was raised without any sort of family ties, and so had no compulsion to try and make his family love him. When he finally go to Hogwarts, he saw a chance to be the one with the control, rather then the one that was always picked on.I had those things, and I believe that is what makes us different. Love is what separates us, I know that I wish to be loved, he wants to be loved, but cannot put it into words. The closest he has ever come to that feeling is being regarded with awe at the orphanage. He tried to replicate that on a larger scale with his death eaters. I have noticed that almost everyone that has joined Death Eater ranks has some sort of abusive past. They are looking for the came thing. Love and affirmation as people. They just have no idea where to find it without killing or hurting someone._

Asmodieus hissed slightly. _That statement of your's has shown me that you have much wisdom for one so young. From what I have heard of this man correlates with what you have told me here. _ he twined around Harry's neck, becoming a black, scaled chocker that made it look as thought Harry's head was floating. _I take it you do not want to kill this Voldemort?_

Harry shook his head. _It's not that I don't want to kill him, I just wish that there was a way to give him a second chance, with all the advantages of a loving family. There is a chance that he would still be bad, but I don't think so._



Asmodieus gently squeezed Harry's neck. _I will try my hardest to find a solution, young master._

They rode in silence until they reached the small cabin by the stream that coursed through the woods. Harry dismounted Arion with Asmodieus drapped around his shoulders and waited for Arion to change himself back.

A young woman came running out of the cabin. "Arion! You came!" She almost flew across the distance between the cabin and their location, her feet barely skimming the ground. "You haven't come to see me in days!" She hugged him then noticed that they had an audience. "Oh." Her pale face flushed, making her silver white hair appear even whiter. Harry tensed.

Asmodieus hissed in Harry's ear. _Why do you tense, Master? It is just one of the swan folk. This one is still a maid, if I am to judge correctly._

Harry forced himself to relax. _She resembles someone I know. His hair and face are much like hers, though his eyes are silver-blue instead of black._

Asmodieus hissed in recognition. _The Malfoy's. They are descended from a swan maiden that was brutalized by one of their ancestors. Since then, all the descendants have had hair the color of spun starlight. They justly deserve the name Bad Faith._

Harry inclined his head. "Forgive me if I frightened you, maiden swan. May I ask what you are called?"

Arion answered, his arm around her waist. "This is Callia Horne. She is my betrothed, if we may have your blessing, Lord Herne."

Callia gasped, embarrassed by her reaction. "My lord, I am sorry, I had no idea! I apologize-"

Harry smiled shyly. "It is no problem, Lady Callia. And I will gladly give you my blessing in this match. But the business that we came here on is pressing. I am in need of a wand, and I hear from Arion that I can find a wand crafter here of no small skill. Would I be correct in guessing that you are whom he speaks?"

Callia seemed to calm at this, a professional demeanour overtaking her. "Yes, my lord. I am the finest wand crafter that has been seen in my family in many a year. Shall we go into the house so that we may create one for you?"

Asmodieus sniffed the air around her from his perch on Harry's shoulder. _It is safe Master. There is nothing in there that can harm you._

Harry nodded. "I thank you. Shall we be going?" he offered his arm to her as she lead them into the cottage, Arion pouting behind them when Callia stuck her tongue out at him, causing Harry to laugh.

The cottage was typical of the wizarding world. It seemed to be much smaller on the outside then it actually was. The Swan Maid led them to a room that lead off the back of the hallway. "This is my work room. " She bustled them inside as she grabbed some things off a counter that ran along the wall of the room. He handed Harry a crystal. "This is only used to calculate the wands of the Lord of the Hunt. It is 

expected that you will have more then one core, so it might take a while to figure out what will be needed to be put inside your wand. "

Harry gazed into the crystal. It was clear, of not any particular beauty. As he stared into it, images seemed to drift from the depths which now seemed smokey rather then unremarkable clarity of before. He saw a red-haired woman with a small child, surrounded by a soft gold and green light. A small hand reached up as the picture changed. A stag ran past, through the Forbidden Forest, followed by a black dog and a werewolf, the same child carefully bundled up and placed in the rack of the stag's horns. Everything went black, and a hissing came, then a blast of green light. The darkness seemed to continue, until Harry heard a phoenix's song. A shining sword, reminding him of one that he had seen. Black eyes, always honest, even in their cruelty. Red eyes, the colour of chilled blood, with the same amount of expression, a soothing scaled weight around his throat, and a horse around his legs.

Harry yanked himself out of the crystal, and found himself to be breathing quite hard. He reached up to his neck, and felt the cool strength of his familiar. /_Asmodieus? What is this thing? IT sucked me right into it's depths. I feel as if I have lived my entire life…or someone else's._ /

Asmodieus huffed softly, as flat a sound as a snake can make./_You did, in a way, lead your entire life, or, your life as Harry Potter. These were the moments that defined you most. And you had to relive them. But now, you ARE Lord Herne, there is no doubt. That is a release stone. It used to be a danburite sphere. Danburite facilitates deep change and the ability to leave things behind. It changed into a Green Serpentine with a Gold Pyrite covering. It is a stone of protection, and encourages the ability to solve conflicts peacefully./_

Harry looked at the sphere. It had turned a deep green, almost black in some places, with shots of a lighter green running through it. A clear covering with gold in patches surrounded it. Harry looked at Callia and Arion, who were whispering quietly to each other. "I am finished."

Callia stopped her conversation and came over to take the orb. "Serpentine. And green at that. But that colour." She looked deeply into his eyes. "You will heal great wounds and evils, my lord. But be warned, it won't be an easy path, and in order to be peace, there must be war." She placed the orb in a small velvet cushion. "Now, let's see. It seems that you have a special affinity for the extremes, my lord. Phoenix and basilisk? Very unusual. But not impossible. Lets see… If we switch…" She mumbled under her breath as she sorted around on her desk occasionally pulling out and looking at a certain object. Finally, she held up two items. "Roc talon and silver venom, they seem to be the most fitting." She held out a vial and a large talon. When he took then in his hands, they glowed softly. Callia looked surprised, "Almost, but it needs something more…" She looked at her desk, and slowly reached out her hand to grab something. "But of course…it would be…" She held out a piece of sinew. "Daricorn's heart string. A direct path from the head to the heart." She placed it reverently in his hands and watched the glow magnify to a point where it was painful. "A Dark creature that heals through the spearing of it's horn. If you are deemed worthy, you will heal. But if you are not worthy, you die miserably. Classified as Dark when one healed Salazar Slytherin and killed the son of Godric Gryffindor. "

Harry chuckled softly. "Just as myself as a Gryffindor dies, while my Slytherin side is coming into play."



Callia smiled softly. "I think, my lord, that there is only one wood that will work for you, as it has been the wood of most of the wands of the Hernes. English yew." She placed a slender stick beside the core in Harry's hand. A sudden glow broke out, blinding them, and when the light faded, a beautiful wand was in it's place.

Harry gave Callia a slight bow. "It seems that you were correct, milady."

A/N. _You see the pretty purple button? It says do not press... it might write more if you press it... (he-he, reverse psychology) _


End file.
